


Desolation

by stydiaxdestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confused Dean, Confused Dean Winchester, Confused Sam, Confused Sam Winchester, Destiel - Freeform, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Slow Burn, co dependency, co dependent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:08:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7181756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stydiaxdestiel/pseuds/stydiaxdestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has known Castiel for 7 years.<br/>Cas disappeared exactly nine weeks ago.<br/>Dean's been counting the days, the minutes, and the hours.<br/>One second everything was fine, the next 'poof!' Cas was gone.</p><p>He goes on a search for the angel across the globe, to the rainy city of London, England. His brother and the king of hell follow suit, concerned for Dean's mental health and stability.<br/>Dean doesn't care though. He just needs to find Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning

Dean always liked Castiel. He couldn't quite figure out why, but there was just something about the big trench-coat wearing baby that Dean admired. They had a good, solid friendship. Of course they had their ups and downs - all friends do. But Dean and Castiel always seemed to bounce back, and radiate towards each other. They'd been through a hell of a lot together...the apocalypse, the Leviathans, even the freaking Darkness herself. They always came out top. But now Dean didn't know what to do, or what to think, because Cas was gone. He'd almost lost Sam nine weeks prior, when some idiotic British woman shot him in the chest. That almost tipped him over the edge, but he kept fighting. He got Sam back. But now...He was lost. 

 

"Dean! Dean, come on, wake up! We have to head out for this hunt, these ghosts ain't gonna kill themselves!"

Dean poked his head out from under his covers, his eyes blurry in the light.

"Sam, it's freaking 6am. We've just sorted out universal peace between God and the Darkness. I deserve a fucking lie in."

"Dean, it's been 3 months. You've had a lie in every day. Get up, or I'll leave without you."

That got Dean out of bed. Sammy had had such a close call with the bitch from Britain that Dean didn't dare risk sending him out on a hunt alone. He sleepily swung his legs over the side of the bed and shoved them into his slippers, grabbed his dressing gown, and wandered down the hall to the kitchen.

"And actually, it's been nine weeks, 3 days, and 15 hours."

Dean grabbed a mug of coffee off the kitchen table and took a big gulp, grimacing at the lack of alcohol running down his throat.

"Dude...bacon?"

"We didn't have any. Actually we don't really have any shopping...I thought you were going to go."

"Do I look like a maid Sammy? You want shopping, you go get it yourself."

"Jesus Dean, no need to be such a bitch about it. We can stop off at a diner for breakfast on the way to the mansion."

Dean smiled to himself, knowing he had won. He wandered off to the drinks cabinet, and topped up his coffee with some whisky. Sam gave him a sideways glance from across the kitchen, but Dean chose to ignore it. He couldn't deal with Sam's crap this early in the morning. Not when there was a hunt to be done...Not while Cas was still missing.

 

Two hours later and Dean is driving the impala, Sam sat in the passenger seat with a pout on his face.

"Dean I can't understand why you wouldn't let me order scrambled eggs...They are literally just eggs."

"Exactly! Just eggs! We can't have you wasting away can we, no! You have to have a proper breakfast for a hunt like this Sammy, you need energy."

"Dean I've been eating healthy breakfasts since I was 17, why are so fussed now? And it's only a haunting Dean, simple salt and burn and we'll be out."

"When is anything ever simple for us Sammy?"

Dean looked away from Sam, his eyes suddenly glazing over with tears. He was right...When was anything simple for the Winchesters? They finished one thing and all of a sudden there was another big problem to worry about. They never got a break. And now Cas was gone...They had no one else but each other, so all they did was argue.

"What's this about Dean? Is it about me getting shot, or you pining for Cas?"

"Shut up. I am not pining for Cas. As a matter of fact it is about you getting shot, because it only happened nine weeks ago and there's still a chance you could fucking die. And don't talk about Cas, if he wants to leave he can. He doesn't need us, we don't need him."

Dean cringed at his words. His lies. He remembered the countless times he'd told Cas he needed him...Countless times Cas told Dean the same. How could he just leave? Fly off without a trace? Deans suddenly began to get hot and cold flashes, his skin crawling and itching like something was under it. His head started to spin and his vision went blurry.

Red. All he could see was red. It smelt bad, pungent. Something wasn't right.

"Dean! What the hell is wrong with you!"

Dean opened his eyes to see Sam staring at him from the passenger seat, his hands on the wheel and one of his feet wedged alongside Deans leg on the break. Sam had pulled the car over, and was now giving Dean an incredible bitch face.

"I...ugh..."

"Are you actually drunk, Dean? Are you kidding me? What the hell was that?"

"I- Um- Yeah." Dean didn't know how else to respond. What the hell had just happened to him? He couldn't tell Sam, he'd only worry. Better to just admit to being drunk, right?

"Fucking ridiculous. Get out, I'm driving. You'd better hope you've sobered up by the time we get to the mansion otherwise you're not setting foot in there. Ghosts and alcohol do not mix."

Dean reluctantly climbed out the drivers side and walked past Sam to the passenger seat, sulkily clambering in and slamming the door.

"Oh don't sulk you big baby." Dean shut his eyes again, remembering what he had called Cas. A baby in a trench coat. Sam had said it'd hurt Cas' feelings...Maybe it did? Dean was never really careful what he said to Cas. Maybe Cas left because Dean upset him?

Dean thought about it for a while, but it just didn't sit with him. It wasn't right...Cas wouldn't just leave if Dean had upset him, it'd take a lot more to make Cas leave now. He'd grown, changed...Become more human. He wouldn't take shit from Dean, and he certainly wouldn't leave just because Dean said something that offended him.

"Look, Dean, I'm sorry. I know you're dealing with a lot of stuff right now...Amara's gone, and you two had a connection..."

"I don't care about the Darkness, Sam. That's over now. All better...Poof! Gone. None of my concern."

"Well what is it then? Is it Cas? Because last time I checked, you and him weren't really talking."

"What the hell Sam? Me and Cas are fine. Nothing happened between us! For some reason he just upped sticks and disappeared...I'm concerned okay?"

"Concerned...riiiiight. Well, I'm concerned about you. You'd think after all this mess, you know, the world nearly ending and all, that you'd be happy we stopped it. But all you seem to do is drink and worry."

"I'm worried because Cas has fucking gone without a trace, okay! Those British morons could have him for all we know, they could be using him, hurting him! And you just expect me to sit back and relax like there's nothing wrong..."

Sam pulled the impala into the mansions parking lot and killed the engine, turning to face Dean, his sad brother face perfected.

"Dean...Look, we'll find Cas. I doubt the British Men of Letters could hold him captive anyway...Even if they were, he'd find a way to get a message to us, through Crowley or something." Dean stared at Sam for a few seconds in awe, before climbing out of the impala and walking up towards the entrance to the mansion.

How could Sam be so naive? They themselves held freaking Lucifer captive for about a week. Cas is nowhere near Lucifers level, and the British Men of Letters seemed very, very experienced. Of course they had him. That's exactly what had happened.

"Come on, Sammy. Let's just get this hunt over with and start looking for Cas."

 

Four hours later, and Sam's laying unconscious in the back of the impala, while Dean swerves down the road madly towards the bunker.

"Dammit, Sammy. Don't die on me."

Dean gracelessly clambered out of the car, grabbing Sam and hoisting him over his shoulder. He carelessly opened the bunker door and half raced-half tripped down the stairs, and laid Sam on the kitchen table. He splashed cold water on his face, and ran around nervously, his hands twitching and jerking with anxiety.

"Where is this god damn first aid kit...Come on Sammy...Don't leave me, please...Don't you leave me too..."

"Dean? What- Dean?" Dean spun around, his hands clamped together so tight they had turned a bright shade of white.

"Sammy! How you feeling? Stay there, I gotta stitch you up..."

"Dean, I'm not going to leave you. I won't die that easily."

"You still need stitches, Sammy. Your head's cut pretty bad...Actually, it might be better if I take you to the hospital."

"And how would we explain this mess? Dean I have a bullet wound in my chest for gods sake...Hospitals ask too many questions."

Dean threw his hands in the air, ignoring Sam's last comment. He finally found the first aid kit, grabbed some whisky, and started stitching his brother up.

"Alright. All done." Dean patted Sam gently on the back and helped him off the table, before standing awkwardly in front of him with his hands clenched together.

"Thanks, Dean. I'm gonna go lie down."

"Okay." Dean watched Sam's huge figure as he walked off towards his room, making sure he remembered every last detail about his appearance - just in case. He never did that with Cas, and now it was too late.

"It's not too late. Cas is still alive, somewhere. I just have to find him..."

With those words, Dean set about searching the entire bunker, and what seemed like the entire internet, for a way of finding the British Men of Letters association. He knew he and Sam couldn't actually go to Britain - they were on the FBI's most wanted list. They couldn't fly a plane...But they had Crowley. He could get them anywhere, and he owed them for saving the world...Again.

Dean grabbed his cellphone from the library table and dialled Crowley's number.

"Hello darling. What's the problem now?" Crowley answered the phone in his usual condescending tone.

"Crowley. I- I need your help."

"Wowee. The great Dean Winchester, asking me for help, twice in the space of 2 months. I feel honoured."

"Shut up Crowley, I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't serious. Just help me out, okay? Please."

"A please as well! I really do feel honoured. Okay princess, what's the problem?" Dean cringed at Crowley's pet name for him...It reminded him of when him and Crowley had wrought havoc when he was a demon. It seemed like so long ago...

"Squirrel? You still there?"

"I- Uh...Yeah. I need your help finding Cas. He's gone, just...gone. I don't know where he is, or if someone has him."

"Haven't you done a tracking spell? I thought you were supposed to be experienced?" Dean slapped his palm to his face. A tracking spell. Why didn't he think of that?

"Err...No. Not yet. This is just a precaution, Crowley. Just in case I can't find him alone."

"What about Moose? Can't he help you find your dearly beloved?" Dean felt his face redden at the comment, even though he was alone.

"C- Cas isn't my dearly beloved Crowley, don't play games. And Sammy's not recovered yet, I can't ask him to help."

"Alright, for you. We'll do a tracking spell, I'll drop off the stuff you need. If nothing comes up, what do you expect me to do though?"

"Look for Cas? Take me to look for him? Please Crowley, I'm begging you right now."

"Oh don't pine, it's not attractive. I'll help you find your angel, but on one condition." Dean gaped at the phone. Crowley always had conditions.

"What? My soul?"

"Of course not, Squirrel. I don't want your soul...What I want is a little more...Touchy."

"Eh?"

"I want you to get me into contact with that reaper, Billie. Put a good word in for me. I like her...She's spunky. But I can't just take her...I want her to like me."

"Oh- Haha, Crowley's got a crush eh? Alright, I'll put you a good word in. Just never say spunky again."

"See you soon, Winchester."

Dean clicked off the call and shut his eyes, resting his cold hands on his still flushed face. What did Crowley mean by pining? And calling Cas his dearly beloved...

Dean shoved his internal monologue aside and set about finding a tracking spell. It wasn't long until Crowley himself popped up in the bunker.

Dean jumped out of his skin when Crowley tapped him on the back, and spun around reaching for his gun before realising who it was. "Something I always meant to ask you...How do you get in? The bunker's warded."

"I took the wards for me off, you moron. Now come on, help me carry all this stuff into the basement. Or my old torture chamber. Ahhh...Memories." Dean grabbed a pile of random and disgusting objects out of Crowley's arms and led the way to the basement, choosing to ignore Crowley's comment about the time himself and Sam kept Crowley captive and tried to un-demonify him.

 

"There's nothing else I can do, Squirrel. He's not anywhere."

"Crowley come on! He has to be somewhere. He can't have just disappeared completely." Dean felt his eyes welling with tears, and turned away from the king of hell so that he wouldn't notice.

"He's either being held captive somewhere that knows how to ward angels from trackers, or he's dead. Dean?"

Dean wiped away one of the tears that had rolled down his cheek, and turned back to face Crowley.

"He's not fucking dead, okay! I'd know. I'd feel it."

Crowley stared at dean with his head tilted slightly sideways, so incredibly similar to the look Cas often gave him that it actually hurt Dean's heart.

"You really do love him, don't you? You idiot." Crowley stepped forward, and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'll go get Sam, you sort yourself out. Can't let your little brother see you like this can we, it might break the illusion. We'll go to wherever or whoever you think has Castiel. Grab your stuff, and be quick about it. Hell needs me."

Dean waited until Crowley had left the basement to run upstairs and frantically pack things into a tiny bag, stuff that he or Cas might need. Toothbrush, shampoo, magazines, music...What was he missing? Oh yeah, his pillow. He grabbed it from the bed, stopping and staring with his mouth hanging open when he did.

Under Dean's pillow was a bloody and dirty, yet unmistakable angel blade. Cas' angel blade, most probably. Dean stared at the blade until he heard Crowley yelling.

"Squirrel! Hurry up. Moose is ready." Dean made the last minute decision to grab the blade, shoving it haphazardly into his bag. He walked down the the kitchen where Sam and Crowley were, and swung his bag over his shoulder.

"Alright then. Let's go get Cas."

AN - chapter two coming soon, should be up Monday :)


	2. The hunted

Dean opened his eyes to find himself on a soggy, dank concrete floor. He jumped from the floor in disgust, and spotted Sam in a similar position a couple of feet away.

"Where the hell is Crowley? If he's dumped us in some random place and left I swear to God I'll-"

"No need to worry Squirrel, daddy's here."

Dean scrunched his nose and Sam laughed at the remark. Crowley stood in front of them expectantly, then looked at his watch.

"Not to put a downer on the mood, but if you want to find your boyfriend alive then we'd better get a move on."

"I know, dammit. What I don't know is where Cas is...and hey! He's not my fucking boyfriend."

"Okay, Dean, cool it. We believe you. If anyone has the ability to hide an angel of Cas' power, it's the Men of Letters...We just have to find them."

"It's not that easy Sam. One of their girls almost killed you, they found the bunker...they probably know we're coming."

"But what they don't know is that you have the King of Hell on your side. Now shut it boys...This is my home country, I can find them."

"So we're in Scotland?"

"No, Moose, England. But I know my way around, okay?"

Crowley started walking off down the alleyway they had landed in, so Sam and Dean scurried to follow him. Dean's mind was whirring like crazy.

England. Jeez...This was the place obsessed with monarchies and tea. 

Dean wasnt looking where he was going, and promptly bumped into someone that turned out not to be Sam or Crowley.

"Oi, you twat. Watch where you're walking!" The British man spun round and pulled an aggressive face at Dean, his features wrinkly and disgusting.

"I-Um...Sorry?"

"You'd best be, otherwise I'll bang you."

Dean spluttered, his cheeks turning red. The man he had bumped into smirked and walked away, leaving Dean to catch up to his comrades.

"He...He threatened me."

"Well done for noticing, Dean. Although I'm surprised it actually scared you...Guy who defeats the Darkness is scared of British people, who woulda thought."

"Shut up Sam! I'm not scared of British people, he just said he was going to...Bang me."

Sam screeched with laughter until Crowley came and stood in front of the brothers, a grim line set on his face.

"They have different slang in this country, you complete morons. He wasn't making sexual advances at you Dean, he was threatening to beat you up."

"Oh." Sam and Dean said simultaneously. They shut up pretty soon after that and followed Crowley down the twisty dark streets, giving Dean the chance to delve back into his mind.

Come on, Cas. Where are you? 

We're coming for you...I'm not gonna let these British fuckers kill you.

Just hang in there buddy.

 

Three hours later, Sam, Dean, and Crowley are trudging through dark stormy streets.

"Crowley, why couldn't you just bring baby with us?"

"Because it's obvious, Dean. The Men of Letters know exactly who you are, and people in Britain don't tend to drive Impalas, especially not the 1967 versions. You of all people should know how to remain inconspicuous, you and Sam were both on the FBI's top 10 most wanted and dangerous list."

"Well...Okay. But can we at least find somewhere sheltered till we can work out where those bastard's are? I get that we need to find Cas, I'm the one that made you guys come here, but we're not going to be much help to him when we've all got pneumonia."

"My thoughts exactly."

Dean only blinked and suddenly they were in a warm, cushy room. The room was over decorated, very past-life. It was a deep purple-pink colour, with a two double beds, a box for a TV, thick carpets and a very creepy doll in a glass case on the wall.

"What the hell is this?"

"This is Windsor Castle."

"And what the hell is that?"

"One of the Queen of England's homes."

"Crowley! The security here will be insane!"

"The Queen isn't here at the moment you imbecile, you really think I would risk that? No, she's at Buckingham Palace in London. You two are safe here for tonight, so long as you don't leave this room. There are 20 overnight guards situated around the castle and I really don't want to have to bust you two out of prison for trespassing on the Queen's property."

"Alright Dean, calm down. We'll stay here Crowley, but where are you going? Don't just poof out on our asses and leave us stranded here. We need you."

"So romantic, Moose. No, I'll be back in hell tonight, in the comfort of my own king sized bed. But I'll be back in the morning, 6AM sharp. Be up, and be ready. Tomorrow we are going to save your boyfriend, Squirrel."

"Cas isn't my-"

Dean didn't have time to finish his sentence before Crowley disappeared, leaving him and Sam to explore the small room.

"So...Nice room, huh?" Dean turned to stare at Sam, who in response to his silence gave him a quizzical raised eyebrow.

"Meh. It's a bit...pink."

"Oh shut up, you love pink."

Dean ignored Sam and turned away, claiming the bed nearest to the window. He flopped down on it and sighed, just as he heard Sam mutter something under his breath.

"Sammy? What?"

"Oh I didn't say anything Destiel."

It took Dean a moment to register what Sam had actually said, but as soon as he did he grabbed one of the thick pillows from his bed and lobbed it at Sam's head.

"Shut the fuck up."

"I'm only messing with you Dean. But for a completely at ease person, it really does annoy you when people question your sexuality..."

"I said shut it Sammy, or I will get Crowley to come back and take you to hell with him for the night."

"Okay Dean, jesus, I was only having a joke."

Dean turned away from Sammy, red in the face and feeling very uncomfortable. Why did it grind his gears so much when people made insinuations about him and Cas? They were best friends. He'd known Cas for so long...But there was something innocent about the angel. Dean supposed he didn't want people to think he was some sort of creep, who only loved Cas because he was like a child in many ways.

But he's not like a child, is he? Cas is strong...Cas is a freaking angel. Cas could kill Dean with the touch of his fingertip...Cas is good. 

Dean fell asleep slowly, unable to stop himself from tossing and turning in the night. His dreams were odd, filled with different scenarios, but all involving himself, Castiel, and Sam. 

Every single dream was horrific. Each time, Dean had to make a life changing decision. Let Cas die. Let Sam die. Let himself die. Every time, he chose to sacrifice himself, and the dreams kept on coming. 

Dean was aware he was dreaming at this point, but he couldn't wake up. His body was frozen in the bed, his eyes open and unblinking, and his heart racing. 

Wait...This dream was different. No monsters that he could see or feel...Sammy here, Cas here...Gotta check for monsters. Dean searched religiously, not knowing where he was or whose house he was in. After a while of searching, Dream-Cas snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Dean? What are you looking for?"

"I...Cas...Monsters. I'm looking for those sons of bitches."

"Oh...Sam, you'd better come in here."

Dean could hear loud thumps coming up the stairs, and prepared himself for an attack, but it was only Sam. Stupid Sam, ducking his head through the doorway so he could fit. Smiling Sam? Since when did Sam actually smile?

"Sammy?"

"Cas? Dean...What's up?"

"Dean's looking for monsters again."

"Oh Dean..."

"Wait, what the fuck? Why are you guys looking at me like that? This is what we do! And I know this is just a fucking dream okay, you don't get to decide what happens. I control what happens in my own dreams."

Dean stood and stared at Sam and Cas, who both had tears in their eyes. A small droplet rolled down Cas' cheek, and Sam put an arm around his shoulder protectively.

"Sam? Dude...are you and Cas...Together? What the fuck is happening...I need to get out..."

"Dean! Just wait! I thought you'd come to terms with Cas and I being together...Dean, how could you be like this? I'm your brother, Cas is your best friend, I get that it's awkward, but dont you love us enough to just let us be happy?"

Dean felt extreme anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach, and his head was dizzy. He felt sick, sick with anger and sick with regret. He felt stupid, and sad, and heartbroken.

"Sammy...Cas isn't supposed to be with you. Cas is supposed to be with me..."

Dean felt himself jerk awake, his whole body trembling and covered in a cold layer of sweat. His eyes searched the dark room wildly, his breath coming out wickedly fast.

Where the hell am I? Oh yeah...England.

It was freezing cold in the room, so Dean grabbed a thin blanket from the end of his bed and wrapped it around himself, then wandered out of the bedroom. Screw Crowley telling him not to leave the room...He needed out. He could conceal himself well enough, and he was pretty sure he could win a fight against some British guard or whatever. If something bad happened he could just call Crowley and get him here pronto. 

Dean slowly snuck down the long, luxurious halls, staring at the paintings mounted on the walls. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. The British sure did like their Royal Families, there were about 200 years worth of pictures strung up on the walls around him. 

He wandered in and out of different rooms, which were surprisingly all empty. At one point he found a clock that said it was 5:05am. Splendid. He had just under an hour to explore before Crowley got here. He might even find something worth taking. God knows the hunters life doesn't pay well.

Dean had been wandering around looking through the castle for 15 minutes when he heard someone shouting from a door across the room he was in.

"Crap..."

Dean jumped behind a huge cream sofa and lay low, his breath so shallow he thought he would pass out.

"I just don't think it's possible, Sir."

"Miss Collins, I beg to differ. The background knowledge we have on these three is...extensive. They don't let each other die, and they certainly don't abandon each other. We have the angel, we just need to wait for the other two to arrive."

Dean's ears pricked up when he heard the word angel. "They definitely mean Cas..." he muttered to himself, before realising he was supposed to be silent.

"Miss Collins? Did you hear that?"

"Yes, Harvey. Yes I did."

Dean heard the shuffle of shoes getting closer and closer to where he was hiding, and he tried to manoeuvre his arm so he could grab his knife. These people knew where Cas was...He could get it out of them. His time as a torturer in hell had never really left him, he knew exactly what he needed to do. 

Just as he saw a pair of black heels stop on the floor to the opposite side of the sofa he was hidden behind, he felt cold water all over his body.

"Dean?! What the hell?!"

"Sammy? Dude...Dude why are you naked? And why are we wet?"

"I'm in the fucking shower you moron! Get out!"

Dean scrambled out of the tiny shower, dripping ice cold water onto the floor around him. He raced through the en suite door and back into the bedroom he had left earlier that morning, to see Crowley sat on the edge of his bed sipping from a cup.

"Squirrel."

"Crowley! Did you drop me in there?"

"Yes."

"Why the fuck did you do that?!"

"Because you were being a bloody idiot and wandering around when I made it perfectly clear that you should not leave this room under any circumstances until I came to get you!"

"I...Um...How did you even know I'd left?"

"I'm not a moron, Dean. I knew one of you would let curiosity get the better of them, but if I'm perfectly honest I was expecting Sam to be the one who I needed to save."

"You didn't need to save me, Crowley! I wasn't in trouble!"

"You might not have felt like you could've been beaten but these people are dangerous! This is the home of the British Men of Letters, Dean Winchester, and you could've just gotten yourself killed."

"What. The. Fuck. So you just deposited me and Sammy straight into their headquarters without fucking telling us?"

"It was a test you buffoon. To see whether you two idiots could last the night without getting caught. I never actually went back to hell, I stayed here. You two just couldn't see me."

"So you perved on us in our sleep? Nice Crowley, real classy."

"Oh shut up Squirrel. I just saved your bacon, show me some respect. Now come on, get armed. We have an angel to find."

Dean shut up when Crowley said that, and instead ran about the room frantically looking for his weapons. Gun, check. Knife, check. Holy water, check. Concealed knives, double check.

"Sammy! Hurry up in there, we're going to get Cas! Hey, Crowley...Where is Cas?"

"Well he's not here if that's what you're asking. But someone here is bound to know where he is, so all we have to do is find the right person to torture and-"

"Crowley. We are not torturing people." Crowley merely shrugged at this, and started sipping from his cup again.

Dean refused to admit how ready he had been to attack and even kill the two people whom he had been stuck in the room with earlier. He didn't want Crowley to know how desperately he needed to find Cas.

"If we can't torture people we'll just have to tail them, and see where they go and who they happen to talk to."

"Deal."

Dean lay down on his bed and shut his eyes, running his rough hands over his face. What on earth would he do if he couldn't save Cas...These people weren't messing around. They knew things about them, all of them. One of them had the nerve to shoot Sam without hesitating, god knows what they could've done to Cas.

When Sam emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with his hair still dripping, Dean immediately jumped up from the bed and faced Crowley.

"Come on, Crowley. Where are we going now?"


End file.
